Is this the only way?

The day started off like any other, hellish, chaotic, and with a splash of blood. Working at an illegal fight club would be nice if I didn't have to be the one fighting for my life.

Unfortunately gambling debts from my deadbeat dad left me other option but to fight.

It'd been three years since I started fighting at the Kip fight club. You'd think I'd be good or at least able to hold my own, but the club makes it's money off of unfair matches.

Pitting Nulls, aka regular people, against the Prized, the people gifted from birth with an ability. It was an obvious setup but people loved it none the less. Why? Because the bloodshed was adrenaline inducing and they can gamble on Hopefuls. The Nulls who maybe had a chance, the ones trained to fight.

To bad I'm not a Hopeful, or even a weak Prized. I'm a Null, born into the bottom of the barrel of society right off the bat. Being born a Null is rare as well, with a less that 3% chance of it happening.

Luck was never my strong suit. Like getting paired up with tonight's opponent, it's a rookie Prized debut match. He's known to be brutal in his training and apparently he doesn't ever stop hitting his sparring partner until he's forced to stop by his coach.

A plenty of people have been sent to the hospital by his hands, and that without him using his abilities. Only one person has died while he was being trained apparently. It took one hit to the head at over a hundred mph, completely blowing his head off.

I've been told that if I beat him tonight the rest of the debt will be paid off. Yeah, I seriously doubt that is going to happen.

My name is Wes Rill, a uncommon Null who at the moment is fearing for his life backstage. I stood up from the leather couch and stared in the mirror. A white 6'2" man with short black hair and icy blue eyes stared back. I look like I'm being held together by the bandages that cover most of my body, and what could be seen past the bandages was discolored skin of old and new bruises.

As I'm getting ready to psych myself up for this fight my manager walks in. A short 5'4" man with little to no hair left, wearing his one 'fancy' suit and smoking a fat cigar, Brutus yells "Odds are 18 to one tonight. You're going to win right?"

I look at the man with a deadpan face and with little to no commitment say, "Yeah. Totally. I got this." As I finish saying this the light signaling the match starting soon lights up.

Brutus wasting no time grabs my arm and drags me out of the room towards the crowd and the accursed ring. As I approached the ring I saw my opponent for the first time.

The fighting name he picked for himself is 'Domain', because supposedly the ring is his domain. I'd say it's cliché but he's not wrong. He's a Brazilian man 6'7" and a strong physically powered Prized. His gift is called burst speed, a gift that allows him to reach speeds of over three hundred mph for one second.

Needless to say that the second I saw him I was questioning everything I'd ever done. My main thought, 'Is fighting this guy the only way to pay off this debt?'